Sunflowers
by xThe Dark Ravenx
Summary: Italy's boss wants Italy to try and becomes friends with Russia and although Italy is a little scared, maybe Russia isn't as big and scary as Italy thought.
1. Chapter 1: The News

Sunflowers

A short story.

(A/N: I know they have accents and many people put the spelling for the word such as Brudder or something for Brother, but I will not be doing that. I do speak Italian, but it is not my first language, so if my spelling is wrong or anything then please tell me.)

-I

"Veee~ it is so sunny outside!" Italy smiled out the large window of his house as if he could replace the suns brightness with his own cheer. He had just woken from his nights sleep, Romano had been up before him but Italy didn't bother to ask where his brother could have gone. Italy smiled even brighter as he stepped away from the open window thinking about what he would eat. Without hesitation he quickly looked through the pile of cloths he never folded on the floor.

"Today I will visit Germany!" The curl on his head bounced along with him as he pulled his pants on and then his boots, for someone so prone to throw his cloths on the floor, he always made himself look well dressed. "Veeee~"

Italy followed his usual schedule, get up, eat something, find something to do, get distracted, get in trouble, wave a white flag, get hit a few times and as always end up on the line with Germany begging to be saved from yet another trouble that he may or may not have caused.

"Germany! Germany!" He cried into the phone in his shrill, "Save me Germany!" Some would have wished for a friendship like this, but some just never had the luckiest of times.

-R

Russia looked out his window carefully at the snow as if staring at it would make it go away. His scarf was wrapped around his neck tight to keep him warm and his gloves were pulled tight. Around him were his usual lackeys, cleaning, and staying clear out of the way as if big old scary Russia would break their necks, but of course he never did.

"M-Mr. Russia?" Latvia, a curly haired boy asked shakily, "Y-your laundry is done!"

Russia hated the snow, but it was his some, and his Lackey's or otherwise known as the Baltic States had served under him in fear. All Russia wanted to do was live in a sunny place, with plenty of sunflowers.

Everyday Russia would wake up, get something to eat, deal with the Baltic States and have things done, wish for some sunflowers and deal with his boss. He didn't get into trouble, no one but England had really been on an iffy side with him, and he didn't call anyone because he didn't have friends. He had Lithuania, but that was another story.

Russia made sure his skin was covered, that his house was in order and that he had his day planned out, but unlike some others he wasn't too lucky. He didn't have a friend to call, and he had no sun to warm the land or to melt away the snow.

-I

Italy smiled; he always smiled as he made his flags, "I know I am not too strong! These flags should work out perfect!" He hummed a small song as he worked; knowing that if Germany was there, that he would have to get up and run and he would have to be a small soldier.

"Uno… Due…" Italy counted happily as the sun had shinned on him before his boss walked in.

"Italy!" A man called handing Italy a paper, "this is important, we think if you talke to Russia then we may be able to think of something to make us stronger."

Italy jumped up reluctantly taking the paper, "Cosa!? Russia! B-but he is scary!" Italy looked at the paper, "we have Germany! Why do I have to talk to Russia?!"

"Italy, just talk to Sig. Russia." His boss said, but he was also a little iffy.

Italy looked at his boss knowing he had to do it, but he showed all signs of disagreement. The two talked it over, they would welcome Russia and his boss. Italy would have to spend time with Russia, he would show him around and try to make friends. Italy nodded sadly knowing Russia would creep him out.

"That is the plan," Italy's boss nodded, "I will call and confirm this visit."

-I

"Germany!" Italy shouted into the phone just as he heard someone pick up, "I have to go and Talk to Russia! He is coming here and I have to show him around! Germany!"

"What?" Germany asked taking a moment to take in what was just said, "Why?"

"My boss says so! Please Germany! Save me!" Italy was already about to openly weep like so many times before, "what is Russia hurts me?"

Germany hmmed rubbing his chin slightly, "I am sure if the bosses set this up then Russia will not hurt you." Germany looked down to his journal, quickly he scribbled down the time and a little note.

"But Germany!" Italy shouted as he sat on his bed, "They want us to be friends! I don't want to be his friend! I want you and Japan as my friends! What if my boss decided to do something and I loose you as a friend?"

For a moment the line went silent.

"Italy, I am sure there is nothing to worry about, Japan had something like this happen to him before and he wasn't forced to be friends with anyone, he just visited another place." Germany waited for Italy's responce to what he said, but he also coulen't help but feel a little unease in his stomach. Italy was his only friend and he knew Japan, but he never really knew what he was thinking. After a moment Germany spoke again, "Italy?"

"Sì," Italy replied, "I am still worried though!" He bounced on the bed waving one arm in the air, but Germany's words did help, after all it was just a visit.

"You will be okay Italy?" Germany asked.

"Sì" Italy answeed quietly, "hey Germany?"

"What is it?" Germany asked turning in his chair.

"You are a good friend."

Germany was silent, "You ... are a good friend as well."

-R

"Friends? With Italy?" Russia said quietly in thought, his innocent face holding a curious expression. Slowly he turned to the phone, he had no one to call besides his older sister who was just a little disturbing. It was an odd though to him, going to Italy to try and make friends with Italy, he wasn't too sure if he would see Romano as they never really were together.

"Italy is warm, da?" He asked no one in particular, but he did recive an answer from Estonia.

"Italy warm, there is no snow, but there is plenty of good food such as pasta, there are flowers." Estonia looked over through his glasses, "It is buzzing with life and people are friendly I heard." Though Estonia spoke calmly he hoped he wouldn't say anything that upset or caused Russia to do anything mean to him.

Althought Estonia was thinking about Russia, Russia's thoughts were to warmer weather. He was quiet, the thought of it made him wonder. Russia was so different compared to Italy, it was like a different world.

Russia walked to his room without saying anything else to anyone, he only spoke to them if they asked him something or is something was not right. He lived in a quiet place, often times it made him think back to when the house was full but it was destined to end. His violet eyes looked over to his dresser and he wondered if he had cloths to suit the weather since he didn't often leave his home because he didn't have to.

On his wall he had a painting of a sun flower, and an old vase that once had one until it had died. The vase acted like a forgotten memory or maybe the hope that Russia never really talked about, moving to a warm place with plenty of sunflowers.

Carefully he opened his wardrobe up to view what was inside. Usually he wore a tan coat, with green pants and whatever else he was seen with, he didn't have much of a varierty due to the weather. Russia bowed his head in thought, memories at times like this came back to him from the past and only one though really crossed his mind.

If he became friends with someone would they also be taken over?


	2. Chapter 2: Chaotic Arrival

Chapter Two

-R

In one hand he had a suit case with stamps on it from all time periods of travel that he had collected, in the other a bottle of vodka and Latvia held a carry on sack that looked rather heavy.

"We are all must ready Russia!" Someone had yelled down, the snow wasn't falling too hard that day which made an easy take off.

"Here you go Russia!" Latvia walked up to the taller one with the sack, his short hair was covered in a hat and he too wore a coat like Russia but in a different color and a large zipper. Estonia and Lithuania shivered but kept there heads up since they would not be accompanying Russia on this round. Russia took the bag with his smile that always seemed to make others nervous.

"Tell me Latvia, why are you so short?" His hand pressed down on Latvia like many times before. He smiled as he did this throwing his sack over his shoulder,

"B-because, you are pressing down on my head, I would be taller if you didn't." Latvia answered feeling the pressure on his neck and spine. Latvia looked down feeling the weight of Russia's hand come off of his head as if he had some great revelation. Russia looked over to Estonia and Lithuania who waved along with Russia's sister who had not been permitted to go. The wind blew making Russia's scarf move with it and it made him briefly think of his sister that was not there and how he missed her.

"We are ready to go!" Someone, most likely the pilot had called down and the stairs were ready to board.

"Come back soon brother!" Belarus called in one of her dark beckoning tones. Around her was a dark aura that somehow even managed to be darker the Russia's. Her hair blew in the wind; most of it was covered in a hat and her coat. Russia sheepishly smiled to her and nodded to the others.

In big strides Russia walked to the stairs with his suitcase in one hand which was taken and loaded into the plane and his sack that had a book inside for some basic Italian.

"Are you ready Russia?" His boss asked as Russia stepped into the plane. The plane was only for a few, and it was a little roomier then Russia expected.

"Da," Russia nodded as he took a seat and watched the door close up, "I have a book that tells us some Italian." He opened his bag and showed his boss the black book that said 'Learn Italian' on the front in Russian. "See, this word Ciao means hello." He took off his gloves and flipped the page.

Russia's boss nodded and took out a book of his own, "well we have some time." He responded and called over one of the people on the small plane.

Russia looked down at the book; his fingers rubbed the page lightly as if he was feeling a paper for the first time. He never really ever thought about Italy, he knew his brother liked to pick fights and that his brother hated Germany, but he didn't really know much about Italy besides he was happy and was friends with Germany. He sighed. Russia had spent the last few days looking up Italy and the weather, the people, and it all was different, maybe he would be able to bring home a plant or two.

"Excuse me sir," a young woman tapped him lightly on the shoulder, "we are about to take off, please put your seatbelt on."

Russia looked at her, she was pale just like everyone he knew around here, "Da," he answered pulling the belt over his stomach and fastening it with little thought. The woman walked away to her own seat and the pull of the plane was strong like all others that had been built well.

The plane pulled forward and out the window Russia could see his comrades waving to the plane as it went, he didn't wave back but he smiled that same old smile and turned away. The speed which they had gained for the take off calmed Russia, and when they were finally in the air he didn't hesitate to remove his belt and plug his head phones into a CD player which America described as 'old news.' On the CD which went to track one, an Italian woman's voice came on greeting him as in an over friendly manor.

"Ciao! Welcome to Italian lesson Uno!" She sounded like she was young and continued to speak as Russia turned a page of his book to follow what she was saying. After a few minuets Russia had started quietly repeating what she was saying, he would say phrases like "Ciao, mi chiamo Russia," and "come stai?" followed by others and answering himself.

In his sack he had a few items besides the book, he had his diary to write the days activities like every country did, he had a snack and of corse a bottle of vodka which he pulled out next and poured in a glass. The small glass was enough to sip from and that is exactly what he did before placing the bottle back. As time went on and he sleep start to over come him as the CD played, he couldn't help but fall alseep dreaming of the sun.

~~I

Sun shone in the room from the open windows as warm breezes passed Italy as he swept, over him was a shadow of worry as he swept the floor with a push broom. He learned on the push broom having swept the floor twice to make sure it was completely clean, it gave him something to do. Around him was the smell of fresh bread that he could tell was almost done. Fresh bread with pasta, that was one of Italy's favorites. It may have been sunny, but he didn't feel all that sunny and sweeping had brought back memories about Holy Roma.

"Ve~ Holy Roman Empire... where have you been all this time?" He sighed quietly gentely pushing the broom up to the wall.

Italy walked into the kitchen happily smelling the bread that was done. With one sweep over the counter he grabbed the oven mit and raced over to the the oven which he opened in anticipated joy. The bread smelt amazing and was just the right amount of brown on the top and the four cuts in it made perfect lines across. Gingerly he reached in and grabed the loaf of bread and looked to other dough that was ready to put in. He slid the got bread onto a cooling rack and smiled putting the new bread in the oven.

The aroma of the bread made Italy's mouth water and he wiped his mouth with his sleeve and looked around to peer at the time. Russia would be at his some in about an hour. Italy was sure he had cleaned the guest room and now he was just waiting.

`Friends... with Russia...' Italy thought to himself and the image of Russia chanting KOLKOLKOLKOLKOL with his dark looming aura that made even Germany uncomfortable. "Whaaaaaaa!" Italy slumped in his place.

"What are you whining about?" A darker haired young man walked into the room holding a tomato. His curl was like Italy's, but his annoyed expression was aimed at the sulking young man.

"Oh! Romano!" Italy happily exclaimed and like always went over to him to get a hug but was rejected.

Romano looked at the younger Italian but didn't say anything for a second as he bit into the tomato and wiped the juiced from his lips, "What are you cleaning so much for, and where is that potato bastard you usually are around?"

"I have to clean… Russia is coming!" Italy moved his hands dramatically to the name Russia and is coming.

"Whaaa!?" Romano spit out his tomato, "why is he coming here!?" The same image that Italy thought of before came to his mind and both the brothers shuttered.

"The boss said so… he wants to see if we might be friends!" Italy sighed, "and now I have to show him around… you will too won't you?"

Romano shook his head, "I didn't get any news about this," he bit into his tomato again, "I guess you will have to do it all by yourself." He smelt the air and hmmhmed, "I smell fresh bread."

"But Romano!" Italy cried out, "I don't want to do this alone! It's Russia!" Italy sniffed the air, "what is that smell?" he asked until he realized, "My bread!" Without a second thought he raced to the oven and threw it open. A puff of black smoke came from the oven making Italy cough.

"Damn it…" Romano mumbled under his breath and put the last bit of tomato in his mouth before walking over and grabbing a mitt. He took the burned chunk of what should have been bread and started to walk outside. Italy closed the oven and turned it off. The oven was big and stone like tradition and he had owned it for a long time. Quickly he threw his mitt down and followed Romano.

"My bread…" Italy sighed looking over the bread.

Romano looked at the bread and set it down so it could cool, "You are talented enough, just make a new loaf." He turned away from Italy and looked around, "I need to go anyway; I am meeting Spain for lunch."

"You are leaving so soon?" Italy asked looking up from the bread that was almost cool, "but you just arrived."

"I will see you tonight, if you don't go and sleep with that potato bastard." Romano answered turning to go back into the house. Italy followed him with a little of a happy note.

"Ve~ I will be here when you come and sleep." Italy really did love his older brother.

"See you tonight." Romano waved as he headed down the halls and to the door. Even if Romano wouldn't say it he loved his younger brother.

"Veeee…." Italy went back out to fetch the bread and he put it where he wouldn't forget it, he didn't want to waste food, even if it was charred. Italy hummed a small tune before looking up and seeing the time. He realized he was late to meet Russia and ran to the door.

"I am late!" he yelled pushing Romano slightly.

"Ehi!" Romano shouted and closed the door.

"Sorry Romano! I have to go see Russia!" Italy leaped into his car and looked for the key. Already he felt like this would never work. Romano glared shaking his fist at Italy as Italy pulled out and drove away.

-R

Russia stepped off of the plane with his suitcase in hand and his sack, immidietly he felt a wave of warm weather and felt the sun on his face. Imidiatly he looked around to see no snow like the many other times he had been to this place for meetings.

"Russia!" His boss called calling Russia back to the reality.

"Da?" Russia asked as he stepped down the stairs already feeling his coat was too heavy but he would deal with it. He glanced around and saw Italy's boss, but where was Italy?

"Where is Italy?" Russia's boss asked right at the moment Russia had thought the question.

"I do not know, he should be here soon," The Italian man shrugged using his whole body it seemed and almost as if on cue a car engine had reved and headed for them. Italy waved his hand in the air,

"I am here! Ve~!" He yelled slamming his foot on the too fast car but it stopped a few feet before them. Italy threw the car door open, his hair wild and messy from the ride. "Ciao!" he smiled and shut the door.

"There he is!" Italy's boss opened his arms and turned tward the Italian who had walked over and put his hair back in place, "Ciao! Welcome to Italy!"

Italy stopped and turned to Russia who looked back, his brown eyes looked at violet and he tried his best not to shutter.

"Ciao Italy," Russia said and nodded to the young man.

"Ciao Russia," he answered waerily.

"Thank you for meeting us here, thank you for showing us around." Russia's boss said and nodded to both Italy and Russia. After a while of the group chatting, setting up some points that they would meet again they let both Italy and Russia go. Both the bosses walked off to a car that was across the way.

Russia looked over to Italy who had lead him to the car in which was a bright red color. He was quiet and Italy didn't really say much to him, but he could tell that Italy was waery, it was Italy after all. He stayed quiet and pulled the car back.

"Are you hungry?" Italy finally asked b reaking the akward silence that was between them.

Russia looked at him for a moment and nodded, "Yes." The thought of pasta went across Russia's mind and he wondered if it would make him like Italy, weak and whimpy. All the times that Italy had talked ab out pasta came to Russia's mind which was many many times. The warm air flowed throu gh both of the boys hair as Italy drove. It was going to be a long week, and Russia wasn't sure if it would go well.

Russia looked out the side of the car to the views, Italy was just like he imagined, lots of sun and good smells in the air, but it was also a lot to take in all at once. People walked over the streets and when in conversatio n waved his hands around. The smell of pasta did hit his nose and he smiled that smile b ut he was enjoying himself. Russia thought that maybe this would work after all.

He felt the wind blow through his auburn hair like a strong wind that didn't stop blowing in a storm. The smells of his home entered his nose, but he nosticed the pasta and bread and pizza the most out of all of them which made him smile happily until he looked over remembering whi was with him.

"Ve~" Italy sighed, "you don't worry like Japan does when I drive. You should have seen him! He was talking about something called a speed limit!" Just wehn he finished speaking they had passed a particular pretty woman making the young Italian whip his head back to see.

Russia looked over along with Italy to see what had caught his eye so quickly. Italy was more distracted then anyone he knew, no wonder Germany always looked so fustrated. The thought made him wonder how they didn't crash when his escort had finally looked back at the rode smiling again like a little school girl. Although Italy drove fast and didn't understand what a speed limit was, Russia was happy that there was no snow and he could bask in the beating yellow sun.

"So do you like pasta?" Italy asked already thinking of the meal he would prepare after they had pulled up into the drive way and had settled.

"Pasta..." Russia shrugged, "Any food that tastes good I like." He smiled tilting his head to the side. Italy only wondered what was running through his mind, but quickly shunned the idea of even thinking about that.

"I prepared a room for you, it was Romano's since he hated sharing a bed with me, but he won't mind!" Italy smiled, "I hope..."

"Da" Russia nodded, "I can always take care of Romano!"

"Whaaa? No! Romano is just a little hard to get along with at times, no reason to hurt him!"

"I wouldn't hurt him... badly." Russia smiled again and Italy looked at the road feeling a sence of dread come over himself, what had he gotten into?"

They sped into the frive way with a squeek from the brakes making a complete stop.

"I don't know why Japan gets so upset! No one is dead! We are safe! I just go a little fast!" Italy hopped out of the car taking his keys with him.

'Just a little fast?' Russia thought to himself as he turned to open the door, but Italy had gotten to it first. He couldn't help but notice the nervouness in the Italian, as if one wrong move and he was dead.

"Welocme to my home!" Italy smiled brightly to the Russian who stood tossing his sack over his shoulder and lifting his suit case. A bead of sweat trailed down Russia's forehead, the heat had started to get to him.

"Eh Russia, are you all right?" Italy's voice was shaken with a little concern.

"Hm?" Russia asked, "Da!" His exlamation was loud and only lasted for a second before he crashed to the ground.

"VE!" Italy explaimed at the body that had fallen to his feet. "Russia!" he yelled looking around as if that would do anything.

'What am I going to do?! Oh no! My boss is going to hit meeee!' Italy was quick to tear up and shove his fingers into his mouth, 'what would Germany do?'

The young man looked around before running inside, "ROMANO! Are you home?!" His voice was full of panic and the place was messy from his brother's attempt to clean.

"Si!" Romano called, "why are you so... What is Russia doing?! Is he on a rampage! Quick lock the doors!" Romano ran out of a room, papers following him, his curl tight with fear.

"No Romano!" Italy ran after his brother and yanked him back, "It... its worse!"

"HE decided to bomb us and kill us and destroy the country and kill me?" Romano looked through the open front door, "Why is he laying face down in the drive way?"

"That is the problem! He was sweating and he just fainted! What do we do?!"

The brothers stared at eachother for a moment contemplating what to do.

"We leave him there." Romano nodded at his own idea, "he dies, it isn't our problem anymore."

"Romano!" Italy looked out the door, "it doesn't work like that!"

Romano leaned against the door, "Alright, help me carry him inside..." he looked over, "and you better not laze out of this one or I will rip that curl out..."

Italy nodded, "Si!."

Both Italians had worked hard to lift up the coated Russian, Italy lifted his arms and Romano grabbed Russia's legs. On three they lifted him with a strain almost dropping him.

"Be careful!" Italy said straining.

"You be careful!" Romano barked back feeling the same strain.

They both worked slowly bringing the taller nation into the house one small step at a time. Both with curious eyes were unsure of what to do, what if he woke up and attacked them? Or worse...

"I think he may be suffering from a heat stroke..." Italy said quietly touching Russia's forehead carefully. "he is quite warm..."

"It is almost 80 degrees!" Romano shouted, "of course he woul get heat stroke in that! It's a million pounds!" The older Italian looked over the buttons and one by one undid them revealing a set of brown and green cloths undernieth that were also thick. "Get his shoes!"

Italy nodded at the comand and slowly had tried to untie the boots on Russia's feet, "Ve! Romano?"

"What?!"

"How do you untie boots?"

"You mean you don't know?! Let me see!" Romano pushed Itally out of the way and looked at theboots for a few moments.

"Ve, Romano?" Italy asked after a good minuet went by.

"Cosa?!"

"Do you even know how to untie shoes?"

"Whaaaa!"

A minuet later the phone had rung on Germany's desk for the first time since the other day. He looked at it for a moment and picked it up,

"Italy? Is that you?" The german almost yelled into the phone, obviously missing the Italian's calls.

"Germany!" Italy yelled into the phone, "Romano is trying to rip out my curl- No! Stop!"

"Get back here! Your tangeling us in the phone wire!" Romano shouted over the line.

"Leave my Curl alone!"

"Italy!"

Then the line went dead.

Germany looked at the phone sighing, it was only hair. Again.

Both Italian boys looked at Russia, the tall one who had been sleeping for a while now had been stripped of his cloths, all except for his boxers and wife beater, and for some odd reason his scarf did not come off no matter how hard the young men tried to remove it.

"Ve!" Italy sighed, "this is bad... very very bad!"

Romano looked at the Russia and shrugged, "well we did everything we were told to do, now I am leaving."

"Again!" Italy sighed, "but I have pasta!"

"I have a small container, and I have a pretty girl to meet." He looked over to Italy and thought of how much he looked like thier grandfather and sighed.

"You do?" His younger brother asked as if he was a little suprised.

"Si" The older one had answered and walked away without saying anything else. He just left Italy with a glass of water, an unconcious country and a bowl of pasta which the young Italian eat hapily. He didn't know what to really say if Russia just woke up, but something inside of him wanted him to wake up. After all, what really was so scary about Russia?


End file.
